"Okay," Ree told herself, "i know it can be scary, but we've been over the theory. We can do this."
It's not like it was that much higher. She just before had bounced of a low wall by the doorway right outside the big hall, ignoring the mocking glances of her fellow asmodians, and all in all it had gone fairly well. Her wings, conveniently located on her back (that was a relief) had momentarily unfolded and closed again - just like they were supposed to - and she had landed reasonably upright.
This, however, was something else all together. She looked down and counted. Nine stairs. This not only required a blind leap and a precision glide spanning almost 2 meters in the air, but also a flawless, surefooted touchdown. In short, a series of miraculous feats she knew she simply had not in her to perform lightheartedly, let alone remotely elegant.
She went through the liftoff routine, like she had rehearsed a couple of times already. She counted the floortiles to the left, and then to the right. Check, she was perfectly in the middle. She looked up. Check, no chandeliers within collision range. She estimated the appropriate distance between her feet "a little", just like the flight brochure said. Check. She unfolded her wings. They still worked. Check.
She spread her arms, bent slightly through her knees, held her breath, closed her eyes, and counted out loud. Three, two -
She realized she hadn't stretched yet. She needed to stretch. Everyone knows that if you don't warm up properly, it could lead to serious injuries. And she didn't want serious injuries. That was the entire point - to not suffer needlessly.
She took out the brochure again, flattening the folds and wrinkles out of it on her knee. There simply was no chapter called "stretching". Then again, it said nothing about "vertigo" either.
She started to wonder whether the author had actually flown about himself, since it lacked severely in practically detailed explanations. It just said "The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss."* "And the willingness not to mind that it was going to hurt when i fail the missing part, either", she thought sourly. She had become particularly annoyed by the cheerful "life is short, enjoy it!" tagline under the title. What the hell? Life is the longest damn thing anyone ever does! What can you do that's longer, especially as a fresh daeva?
"Alright", she told herself harshly, "stop procrastinating. It's just a matter of leaving the ground."
Neatly in the middle. Spread feet. Spread wings.
Ready for liftoff.
She took a deep breath and -
Wait. Abort flight. Shouldn't she get a helmet? A skydiving helmet? Just in case? She felt her head with both hands. Yes, that was a helmet, albeit not one fit for extreme sports with high fatality rates - apart from some casual Elyos slaughtering then. She took it off and studied the label. The wearing of this garment would not enable her to fly, but it might soften some ground impact somewhat.
She thought about the probable necessity of getting goggles.
"Son, i want you to look at something for a minute", she heard behind her. "What do you see?" She turned around, curious, only to discover there were plenty more folks behind her, observing her every action, some laughing hysterically. Obviously unlikely to say anything helpful. "I don't know dad", the answer of the little boy came, his eyes big on her fluttering, sweaty hands that flailed out uncontrollably at random objects surrounding her. Someone started taking bets.
She glared at her audience and gritted her teeth; then chin up, eyes forward she paced to the teleporter. "There's no shame in failure if noone's around to see it," her aunt always had said. Ree started to think her aunt might have had trouble flying as well.
Minutes later she climbed what looked like a suitable tree. This time she would not falter. If a human happened to walk by when she was ready to leap, she would jump right over the top of their surprised head. She would soar right to newly found grounds, and from there to more challenging jump-off spots.
"I'm a natural," she yelled, and jumped into the air waving her arms and legs. She crashed to the ground.
"Dang," she sighed while brushing off her chafed knees, "i think someone forgot to tell me that i was adopted."
She realized flying was about hoping to land decently, much more than about staying up there. She remembered the brochure had said something on landing like "you will almost certainly screw up, and screw up badly, on your first attempt." At least the author had that one right.
But Ree was blessed with a proper level of perseverance. On her next trial she crashed into a tree, unable to avoid a multitude of spider webs, promptly sinking to her thighs in thick smelly swamp goo. "I'll be embarrased about this once the adrenalin wears off", she told the shocked rabbit that had fled his hole on their forceful contact. She beamed with delight. She had been able to remain bobbing in the air in slightly foolish manner, just a few seconds before smashing into the foliage. Truely, this had been a mindblowing base jump. This had been quality time.
Once she found that she could do it, there was no stopping her. She found higher and higher grounds, contemplating her options. She could? maybe? accelerate herself to the top of that shed. Or no, no! Too easy! From this spot she would sail to the top of that hill, defying gravity. Or leap over the entire width of... Or no, better even! She would just whoosh, leave the ground here, catch the updraught and soar skyward, right up that cliff there.
Ahh, these were all minor conquests for someone that could fly. She hardly bothered with them at all, preferring more challenging places where she would soar from top to top, aloof and safe, high above the earthbound world of mere humans. She had a sudden, instinctive love for the top of the world.
She ran around, and then, out of the blue, there it was. The perfect spot, for her perfect first real flight. She surveyed the mortal world below. It was deep, very deep.
She found herself precariously close to the edge of disaster.
She decided she didn't want to look down anymore.
She unfolded her wings. They didn't look that impressive. She hoped a short wing span wasn't relative to her life span. The wind played around her legs, pulled her hair. A little wing tuck made her cringe in fear. Her throat dried.
"Alright," she spoke to herself, "This is a crucial moment. Fight or flight response, it's all biochemical and perfectly normal in a life-threatening situation. Flying is merely movement through space. Our minds frame these motions into virtual moments by which we analyze and plan, anticipating our futures and reflecting upon our pasts. All we need to do to be truly content is
...just hop on in and hope for the best!"
She closed her eyes and jumped.
*[The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy]
